


Back Room

by whereismygarden



Series: play on, give me excess [10]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Golden Lace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:26:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whereismygarden/pseuds/whereismygarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lacey and Gold's arrangement is taking on the flavor of an affair, very slowly, and neither of them know it. Lacey!Belle and cursed Gold, in Storybrooke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back Room

**Author's Note:**

> Have I mentioned that Lacey is underage in this series yet? Take heed if that bothers you.

Lacey thought the white comb was pretty, upon further inspection. It had four long teeth, carved delicately and shallowly with vines, and the handle was wide and flat, crowned with roses on one side and thorns on the other. The pearly sheen was attractive without being too glittery, she decided, and the second day she had it in her possession, she wore it to school.

                She was too conscious of it perched there, tucked into her curls rather unobtrusively, reaching up to check it every other moment. It felt like a sign that read ‘I’m fucking Gold,’ as if she had his fingers buried in her hair instead of shell, though she knew, rationally, that no one would recognize it. She was the only person who wandered his shelves often enough to have a general idea of what was kept there. No one even mentioned it, and she went from feeling obvious to a little insulted that even Ashley, with her eye for all things cosmetic, decorative, and feminine, had not noticed it.

                She walked from school to Gold’s shop as usual, and placed the comb carefully on the counter.

                “I think I’ll keep it,” she said nonchalantly. He looked up from his work: he never looked at her until she said something.

                “Fine,” he said, taking off the glasses he wore to repair things and setting them to the side. “Your neck’s doing better.” Lacey touched the thin scrapes and nodded.

                “Almost faded,” she agreed. “How much?” He frowned, glancing down at the comb.

                “Twenty,” he judged. She sighed. She shouldn’t smoke as much, anyway. Now she would have to ration for a while, if she really wanted it.

                “Here,” she said, pushing over the crumpled bills, and he tucked them into the register and noted the sale in his ledger. “Why don’t you have a computer?”

                “I don’t need one,” he said simply. She leaned on the edge of the counter, but apparently his goodwill didn’t stretch so far, because he prodded her hip with stiff fingers. “Get off my counter.” She straightened and walked around to the other side, running her fingers through his hair. “That’s not the best idea,” he said. She tugged gently.

                “Come on, why not?” she teased, and nosed along his ear. “You’re the one who stuck your fingers inside me, right here.” She nipped his earlobe, and he hissed sharply, gripping her wrist. “Come on, Gold, I’m dying here.” He snickered at that, and kissed the inside of her wrist lightly.

                “The little death, eh?” She tried to glare, but he was so pleased with his joke, and she felt blood thumping in her ears at his touch. “Your hormones are just driving you insane, aren’t they?”

                “What, like you don’t have hormones?” He only pulled her so that she was half-straddling him in his chair, and gripped her hips with his hands.

                “I think that the biological drive is a little less consuming,” he said slowly, and pressed his face against her breasts, running his left hand up her side, under her shirt, and undid the clasp of her bra with ease. “But let’s see what we can do about that.” Warm, weathered fingers brushed over her breast, and she hitched in a breath when he rubbed a thumb over her nipple. He lifted his face and looked smugly into her face. “You look a little flushed, Lacey.” She moved so she was properly in his lap, and ground her hips into his. He pushed her off. “No, none of that.” He tweaked her nipple sharply, sending a little jolt to straight between her legs, and stood up from his chair, backing her into the little room behind the actual shop.

                It was as crowded as the front, and under any other circumstances, she would have been happy to simply poke around at all of it. But the present circumstances were Gold’s hands under her shirt and at the waist of her jeans, and most of her cognitive processes were dedicated to understanding what he was intending. She had meant to tease him, but she had found she didn’t mind him guiding her, sometimes. Last time she had been half-stupid with painkillers and he’d been _careful,_ of all things.

                “Lacey, sit down,” he said hoarsely, and actually let go of her. There was something like a cross between a bench and a cot behind her, and she sat. He turned away and limped towards one of the shelves, returning a breath later with a silk pillow, which he tossed at her feet. “This might take a few seconds,” he teased, gesturing to his cane.

                “Are you…sure?” she asked, suddenly uncomfortable now that she _did_ see his intention. He gripped the edge of the cot and braced his cane hard against the floor.

                “I’m going to all this trouble for you, am I not?” he said shortly, finally managing to kneel on the pillow and taking hold of her thighs again. She didn’t let him pull them apart, though, holding herself rigid.

                “I—“ she floundered for a word, an explanation. “I don’t—I don’t know if you want to,” she faltered. Gold reached up and grabbed her chin, pointing her face toward him. He looked curious and a little offended.

                “Oh, I want to,” he said, and his voice was thick, hungry, and she shivered. “Why don’t you want me to?” She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead and fought for clarity.

                “No one’s ever—offered,” she said feebly. She wouldn’t want Greg or any of her other flings to do this, though. She wasn’t even sure she wanted Gold to, though his face was almost hungry and his fingers dug into her legs like claws. He chuckled, and rubbed his face along her denim-clad thigh, biting at her through the fabric.

                “Come on,” he said, in a moaning voice. “Lacey, please let me.” She whimpered at the idea, of sitting back and letting him pleasure her, yet part of her was rebelling at it: he was on his knees, but she was surrendering.

                “Okay,” she whispered, and let him unfasten her jeans and pull them down her hips with a growl. A few tears pricked at her eyes, and she squeezed them tight. He pulled down her underwear and yanked all of it to her ankles, then pulled her thighs wide and buried his face between them.

                “Oh,” she said softly, as his tongue moved over her clit, brushing at her in slow, soft patterns. “ _Oh_.” He hummed at her words, and she put her fingers through his hair, her other hand gripping his shoulder. “Yes, there, God, yes,” she was panting already, sweat gathering at her temples and neck. She tensed her legs, unable to stop them from trembling when he rubbed his nose at her clit and lapped at the liquid flowing from her entrance. He returned tongue and then lips to her swollen bundle of nerves, and she threw her head back, taking heaving breaths in an attempt to not scream. “Yes,” she groaned, feeling light-headed as waves of bliss rocked over her with every movement of his tongue. Her hips jerked forward, and she cried out sharply, feeling she would burn up if she didn’t come soon. The silky smooth feeling of his mouth was different from the firmness of his fingers, and the slow softness of it all was unbearable.

                Her toes curled, and she shifted her legs, biting down on her hand as the waves finally crested, her vision going in a blur of sparks. She gasped, leaning forwards, and her hand clenched around his hair. Her hips thrust forward of their own accord, seeking out more friction, and she had never come quite like this before: slow and hot and sliding, and effortless. She’d only sat and he had done the rest.

                “Any regrets?” he asked lowly, stroking along her thigh. She smiled blearily at him.

                “God, no. That felt incredible.” He struggled back to his feet, looking unashamedly happy at her spread legs and clothes around her ankles.

                “You’re welcome,” he said, wiping his mouth on the blue pocket square from his jacket. Lacey snorted: she knew this exchange.

                “I didn’t say thank you,” she fired back, and he only smiled more. An odd silence settled over them, and she pulled her jeans back over her hips, standing back up and avoiding his eyes. “I suppose I had better go, then.”

                “Yeah, probably,” he agreed, and walked back to the counter, where he pulled out a square of paper and wrapped her comb. “Here you are, Miss French.” She tucked it into her purse and nodded, turning away and walking out of the dark little shop and into the bright October sunlight.

                Ruby’s car was parked at the curb; her friend was smoking in the driver’s seat, idly looking over her nails. Lacey climbed into the passenger seat and propped her feet on the dashboard.

                “What are you doing here?” Ruby gave her a flat look.

                “I was looking for you. You’re not working till later tonight. Where else would you be?” Lacey frowned at the other girl.

                “What do you mean?” She was feigning innocence: she did spend an odd amount of time with the town pariah. She flipped on the radio, trying to act as if she truly didn’t care. Ruby sighed.

                “I mean that you are always in Gold’s shop, and I think he has some creepy thing for you.” Lacey tilted her head and gave Ruby her most disbelieving look.

                “Really, Rubes? Gold?”

                “Whenever he’s near us in the street, he always looks at you. Like he wants to fuck you, I might add.” Lacey opened the glovebox and took one of Ruby’s cigarettes out of it, then fished her lighter from her bag.

                “He’s just my friend.” The other rolled her eyes.

                “Yeah, because God knows you’ve never fucked one of your friends before.” Lacey sighed, unable to get as offended as she ought to over Ruby’s comment, still in the warm and golden afterglow of orgasm.

                “Come on, you know I don’t have nearly as much sex as everyone thinks.” Her friend narrowed her eyes suddenly, putting a red nail to her crimson lips.

                “Oh my God,” she said, softly. Lacey took the lull to light her cigarette and tuck her lighter away. “You’re not making a joke about it. You make jokes about Greg all the damn time, and I know you’ve only banged him like two or three times. You are totally doing Gold!” Her voice rose into a squeak. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Lacey French, you were just in there fucking him!”

                “Oh, shut up,” she said, still not willing to argue, and knowing her face was turning red. “Just drive, all right?” Ruby started the car and managed to stall twice, she was so distracted.

                “Well, well, well, you finally found someone as batshit insane as you,” she said, voice amused. Lacey exhaled a cloud of smoke, glad beyond words that Ruby had not condemned her. Of course she wouldn’t, Ruby never judged her for anything, but it was nice to share her part of the secret, instead of holding it close and tight. “Huh. Is he any good?” Lacey laughed out loud: Ruby through and through.

                “Mmm-hmm,” she pronounced. “ _Really_ good,” she added, just to watch her friend squirm.

                “All right, never mind! I don’t want details about how you and Gold get it on, you kinky little freak.” Ruby snorted, shaking her head a little, and changed the radio station. “Now _this_ is music.” Lacey smiled and tapped her fingers along with the drums as Ruby sang.

                “My secret friend, oh take me to the river, so we can swim forever,” she grinned over at Lacey and finished, “break my deepest, break my deepest promise.”

                “Cheery,” Lacey grumbled, sticking her head out the window for fresh air.

                “Shut up, I’m ninety-five percent sure you just got laid, so I don’t want to hear it. I am going on a date with Billy tonight, so I will listen to what I want.”

                Lacey didn’t really mind, the song was nearly over, and she wished Ruby all the best on her date, though dating was not her thing. Though the idea of spending a few hours in Gold’s company was far less repellent than the idea of doing so with Greg or one of his friends, she thought the few minutes in the back room had told her more about herself and Gold than any date could. She brushed her hand over the paper-wrapped comb and tossed the cigarette out of the window, into a sewer drain.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from the IAMX song "My Secret Friend."


End file.
